


The Sun, the Stars, and the Shade

by Zodiac



Category: Final Fantasy XIV
Genre: Also they all bicker like a married couple it's great, Established Relationship, Fight Scene, It's exactly what these goobers deserve, Kissing, Male Azem, Minor Injuries, Multi, Not Amaurot but Amaurotine times, Patch 5.3: Reflections in Crystal Spoilers, Polyamory, This is some tropey anime bullshit but I don't care
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-31
Updated: 2020-08-31
Packaged: 2021-03-06 21:07:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,921
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26205427
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zodiac/pseuds/Zodiac
Summary: Throughout his travels near and far from Amaurot, Azem cannot help but assist those he finds in need of it. However, it is all-too easy to get in over one's head when performing such selfless actions all alone. Therefore, when the Traveler finds himself in need of aid, surely his closest companions will come racing to his side when called for.Surely...
Relationships: Azem/Solus zos Galvus | Emet-Selch/Hythlodaeus
Comments: 2
Kudos: 16





	The Sun, the Stars, and the Shade

This was bad.

During his constant travels, Azem had stumbled across a town with the quiet pall of fear shrouding it, seeping into every citizen he had come across as surely as a miasma. After some asking around and prying what information he could from the locals, his mind was able to put a shape to their terror.

A monster that lived nearby the town, whisking away anyone who dared venture too far outside and occasionally going as far as to raid the place for food. Further information amounted to mere crumbs due to the tiny detail that few people who actually saw the beast came back alive to tell the tale, but he was able to piece together a rough location for the beast's whereabouts, something about lots of teeth and lots of claws… and the fact that some of the townsfolk were planning on banding together to try to put an end to the terror.

After a quick assessment of their combat capabilities—or rather, lack thereof—he decided he couldn’t allow that to happen.

After a bit longer futilely attempting to gather information about his quarry, he headed out to where it supposedly made its lair.

Which was how he found himself in his current situation.

Before him stood the monster, vaguely bear-shaped, with six legs each ending in wicked claws perhaps meant for shoveling dirt… but it had found more sinister uses for them as the front pair was splattered with fresh blood, having already carved a few scratches into Azem’s legs and arms during their brief battle. A cluster of beady eyes topped a short snout, raised in the air to reveal a slavering maw lined with sharp teeth, practically begging to find their place in his flesh. Such a horrifying appearance wasn’t an issue for him, not after seeing some of the more questionable Creations his coworkers magicked into existence. No, what proved to be the major problem for him was every visible bit of the creature was covered in a hard, chitinous carapace of some sort, serving as a sturdy shield against attacks.

Azem didn’t wield any weapons of his own, instead preferring to let his fists do the work. Though they were covered in a sturdy leathery material of his own making to soften the shock of any blows he might commit to, they were next to useless against such a foe. His magic, meanwhile, was ill-suited for combat, favoring Creation over destruction, but… there was one aspect of it that may yet still assist him.

Digging a hand in his pocket, he drew out a small, orange crystal, carved into a round crescent on one end with the other curving into a point. The stone associated with the seat of his office. The stone of Azem.

Holding it to his breast, he drew upon his aether, upon the memories and experiences trapped within the crystal, upon the desire within him to summon the aid to his side that he so desperately needed right now. Beneath him, the sigil of his office hummed into existence, glowing as bright and sure as the sun beating down. Two pillars of white light shot up from the ground, meeting the burning star above and all seemed fine, everything seemed as though the summoning would proceed as it always did.

Until the pillars of light lowered back down before dissipating upon becoming level with the ground, revealing nothing within.

For a moment, Azem simply stared at where those pillars were, where his assistance _should_ have been based on all the times he had performed this sort of ritual in the past. However, before he could even begin to think of ways why it hadn’t been successful this time around, a horrid piercing roar snapped his attention back to the beast before him… but not quickly enough as one of its paws fell upon him once more, slamming into him with enough force to send him crashing into a nearby tree. The impact wrenched all breath from his lungs in the form of a pained yell, but he managed not to slump to the ground. Instead, ignoring the searing ache across his back and the stinging of his scratches as best he could, he rose back up to his full height and stumbled away from the tree, realizing that getting pinned against it was likely the worst possible thing that could happen.

Now with open air against his back and all sides once more, he could ensure he had a place to dodge while trying to work out a new plan seeing as how his trump card had failed so spectacularly. He couldn’t flee; running would simply end up leading it back towards any civilization he headed towards and, besides, he doubted he could even attempt to outrun it over any significant distance with how bad of a shape his legs were in. And yet, neither could he do any real damage to it with how his fists glanced off its shell, leaving nary a dent in it. His magic was already out of the question; his attempt at getting help had failed and he would be completely unskilled in any weapon he did manage to conjure up, unaccustomed to wielding any at all.

All he could really do at this point was dodge and hope for a miracle.

For several minutes, that was what he managed to do. Despite how wounded he was, he was still plenty quick on his feet and it allowed him to dance around the slicing claws and snapping jaws that attempted to sink into his flesh once more. But then—a misstep, one wrong move and one of those paws slashed across his chest, simultaneously cutting through his skin and sending him sprawling on the ground with a cry that was more shocked than pained.

Immediately, he attempted to scramble backwards, away from the monster that was already winding up for another blow, claws raised high in the air, beady eyes glinting with a primal hunger. All he could do was stare as he futilely tried to get away in time, unruly white hair falling down to partially obscure his gaze.  
“...Shit.”

And then a swarm of rich purple arrows embedded themselves in the beast’s paw, causing it to reel back with an ungodly screech. At the same time, his vision gained a slight blue tint as a pillar of blessedly warm aether washed over him, coaxing his wounds to begin to stitch themselves closed.

"You did not believe we could let you have _all_ the fun, did you?" If there was even the barest hint of doubt as to who that cocky, self-assured voice belonged to—which there most certainly was not—it would have been dispelled as the owner sauntered up beside him. A hand on his hip, the hood of his voluminous, black robe thrown back to allow his white hair to flutter in the breeze the Architect of the Convocation, Emet-Selch stood tall next to him. In his other hand, he wielded a deep purple staff, topped with what looked to be a crystalline flower of the same color, the petals folded shut, but gaps between them allowed the core to be seen. It crackled with the force of the offensive magic he had just unleashed, bolstered by the presence of red, flowery leylines twining their way around the weapon.

""Fun" is not a word _I_ would use for this situation." Came another familiar voice from his other side, exasperated and full of endearment in equal measure. Turning his head revealed the owner of that healing light he was being bathed in, of that voice full of irritation and love all at once. Kneeling down beside him, shoulder-length white hair tumbling over his robe, was Hythlodaeus, his lips pursed together in concentration as he sustained the healing spell on him. Held aloft in the space between his hands was a planisphere consisting of the main stars of each constellation with the sun set high in the middle of them all. The entire contraption whirled about and glimmered as it drew upon the very power of the firmament above, looking as though it was plucked from the heavens themselves.

"...What took you two so long?" Azem asked after a moment to take the sight in, hardly able to believe just how _close_ the beast had gotten to ending his life.

"Is it not the hero's job to valiantly arrive right at the very last possible moment in order to save the day?” Emet-Selch mused, hand moving from his hip to gesture dramatically for emphasis.

“He had to find a robe to wear.” Hythlodaeus murmured simply. “The _illustrious_ Emet-Selch may have low standards, but even he will not stoop down to leaving the apartment without his robe on.”

“I can _hear_ you, you know!” The Architect snapped back. “I may be old, but I can still hear when _some people_ are trying to talk behind my back!”

“...And pants. He had to find pants too.”

“ _Anyway,_ ” Emet-Selch began in the exact tone of someone who very much wanted to move the conversation along so more embarrassing tidbits about them wouldn’t be revealed, “you focus on patching up our idiotic traveler, I will make certain that monster does not finish the job.”

And, before Hythlodaeus could get any more words in, he ran off to one side of the beast, another volley of those dark arrows manifesting in a trail behind him that shot towards it, drawing its attention away. “Hey, ugly! You’re lucky I don’t oversee the creation process out here because I _never_ would have approved of something as hideous as you are!”

“He calls you the idiot when _he_ is the one provoking the monster while being composed of paper and creaky joints…” Hythlodaeus grumbled with a slow shake of his head, the healing light around Azem stopping for a moment as the light illuminating his planisphere grew darker, erecting an aetherial barrier around this fiery mage, no doubt in preparation for any blows he might take in the near future.

Hanging his head down as Hythlodaeus’ magic washed over him once more, Azem drew in a shaky breath as he shivered lightly, feeling tears beginning to prick at the corners of his eyes, but not of sadness, no. Instead, raw _relief_ flooded his veins, at seeing his two partners actually arrive, at hearing them snip at one another just like always. Just the sheer _normality_ of it all assured him that they were going to do this, that everything was going to be alright.

“Are you alright…?” Came Hythlodaeus’ voice, gentle and obviously full of worry. White strands of hair dipped down into his line of sight as he tilted his head down, trying to get a look at his face and the few tears now rolling down it.

Hurriedly, an arm darted up to rub at his own face, not wanting Hythlodaeus to see him in a moment of weakness. "'m fine, just… glad you two're here is all…"

"Oh, is he actually being _grateful_ for my presence for once?!" Emet-Selch chimed in. "I _do_ hope you were recording that, Hythlodaeus; it only happens once a blue moon, after all!"

So focused on his jeering, he didn't notice the beast raise its claws for a strike until it was too late. Reflexively, he flinched back as soon as he did realize they were going to strike him down, but they didn't connect… not right away, anyway. Instead, it caught on what seemed to be thin air as it crashed into Hythlodaeus' barrier and struggled against it for a second, two, before shattering through it. Although, it wasn't entirely in vain; it granted him enough time to turn so the claws only scraped along his arm rather than a more vital part of his body, though it certainly couldn't have been pleasant considering the pained shout he let out and the way he stumbled back.

"Hades!" Hythlodaeus exclaimed, forsaking any pretense of titles as he bolted up and over to his side with a swiftness that was usually only reserved for when either or both Azem and Emet-Selch were committing culinary atrocities in his kitchen.

Slowly, the Traveler rose to his feet, but the caution was merely him testing his recently-closed wounds, ensuring his partner’s magicks would keep them knitted shut. Upon finding his work more than satisfactory, he bounded over to the other two before looking in concern at the nasty gash in the Architect’s arm that was now the target of those healing magicks. “You alright, old man?”

“I am alright enough.” He responded with a reflexive shrug that made him wince. "Now, I believe a better question to ask would be, 'Are you alright enough to finish this'?" Straightening himself up from his usual slouched posture, the Architect gave him a mischievous wink, an unspoken signal that he understood all-too well at this point.

With a nod and a knowing wink of his own, Azem widened his stance and lifted his hands before him as he clenched them into fists. Using his uninjured arm, Emet-Selch raised his staff, leylines racing up along its length before exploding out from the top in a sparking shower of magic. As if nourished by the aether flowing through it, the petals on top of the staff unfurled, fully revealing the shimmering crystal core nestled within. It audibly hummed, purple glow intensifying to a brilliant amethyst as it served as a focus for the sorcerer's powers without any barriers. More of those leylines swarmed forwards, flowery tendrils gathering up his essence before making their way through the air to the traveler with darting, sinuous motions. 

Once reaching him, they curled firmly around his left hand and, as every time they had done this, he could _feel_ the ageless power being transferred to him, a portion of the stygian powers of the Underworld entrusted to him for this one attack. Cold and dark, but so wonderfully familiar, the aether engulfed his fist in a purple blaze, cool flames lapping through his coverings like the gentle caress of a lover's tongue without burning through them.

Meanwhile, while his own magic was usually limited to whatever Creations he wished to will into being (and summoning his partners halfway across the continent), those leylines curled around his hand that gifted him Emet-Selch's power offered him a focus of his own. Drawing upon the aether within himself and concentrating it through them made it manifest, right fist exploding in searing sunfire, complementing the powers of the Underworld without clashing with them.

While all this was happening, Hythlodaeus chuckled, a noise that would have been concerning to the other members of this ragtag trio under normal circumstances. Lithe fingers reached up to his planisphere and a firm shove sent it spinning, scattering the stars that composed it and sending them flying. For a moment, they simply hung in the air wherever friction thought to halt their flight, but then they seemed to regain their urgency, all of them flowing through the air towards Azem, trails of light that matched the colors of each star lazily following behind them. Once reaching him, they settled along both his hands, unevenly speckling along his knuckles as if they were the tapestry of the night sky itself.

The sun, the Underworld, and the stars… when united, there wasn't anything they couldn't handle…

Grinning, he swung his fists back down to his sides as he turned his attention to Hythlodaeus. "Ready, Hyth?!"

"Always." He replied with a smirk before snapping up the hand beneath his planisphere, forcing it to shoot up into the air where whatever magicks that normally held it hovering above his hand made it drift slowly back down to earth, partially heedless of gravity's pull.

With his path now clear, Azem rushed and took a running leap towards Hythlodaeus, who cupped both hands beneath one of his feet before whirling about and flinging him at the beast. As soon as he was boosted higher, he brought his fists back together once more and, with a cry of raw determination, crashed down upon the monster's skull with the combined might of the three of them. Not even the creature's hard carapace could protect it against such an attack and the beast crumpled with a shuddering, piercing screech that set their very aether shivering from its intensity.

After delivering the blow, Azem leapt back from it, watching it warily for any signs of movement. When none came, he turned around to his companions and raised his arms in the air as he let out a victorious yell. "We did it, guys!"

With the monster defeated, Emet-Selch made a noise halfway between a sigh and a balloon deflating as he leaned heavily against his staff, bravado disintegrating without any need for it any longer. Gingerly, he raised his wounded arm and beckoned his leylines back to himself. As the flames of the Underworld extinguished, the tendrils wound their way back to their true owner where they sank through his clothes to mesh with the rest of his aether. "I am getting too old for this…"

The stars met the same fate as those leylines, trailing back to the planisphere now hovering right above Hythlodaeus' hand as per usual, which was for the best as he was back to fussing over the Architect's arm. "Which is precisely why you should not have been so reckless, lover."

"You needed a distraction. I would say I quite valiantly served as one." He huffed, trying half-heartedly to pluck his arm from Hythlodaeus' grasp, but inevitably giving up and allowing himself to be tended to. With a wave of his good arm, his staff vanished, dissipating into tiny motes of aether. "Speaking of reckless, however, Zelos, what have we told you about trying to solve problems like this on your own?"

Azem gulped at the use of his true name, knowing full-well that Emet-Selch only used it when he was in trouble or in the event that the Architect was being affectionate… but, well, this definitely wasn't the latter. "The locals needed help…" He began lamely as he awkwardly rubbed at his own arm, the realization that he summoned his partners halfway across the continent—and got one of them injured—to get himself out of his self-made mess suddenly hitting him _hard_. "It was eating their crops and terrorizing everyone and all that. I heard that they were gonna try to get a group together and go take it on themselves, but, well, they aren't used to fighting, so…"

"So you thought you would face it on your own, fearing the matter would not get past the Convocation's red tape before tragedy struck?" Emet-Selch finished for him, having heard his logic enough times to make an educated guess as to what it could be. When he responded with a sheepish nod, his shoulders rose and fell with a heavy sigh. "While your desire to assist anyone and everyone is to be admired, you simply _cannot_ continue doing this. What if something went wrong and we did not sense your summons? What if we were otherwise occupied at the time? What if you…"

He swallowed hard, finishing his sentence with an abruptness that wordlessly revealed precisely what his thoughts were.

"You know Zelos cannot help it." Hythlodaeus chimed in patiently as he finished up with his arm and dissipated his planisphere just as dismissive of his title as he was with Hades'. "Each and every one of the Convocation has their particular weaknesses and his simply happens to include being so selfless that he _must_ aid those in want of it. It could very well be considered a flaw, but it is precisely that which makes him so beloved among the people of Amaurot and beyond… and among the both of us as well, if I am not mistaken?~"

The way Emet-Selch huffed and glanced away, the slightest hint of a blush growing on his cheeks, only served as confirmation for Hythlodaeus' words and drew one of his signature mischievous chuckles from him. Meanwhile, Azem beamed brightly enough to rival the sun as he flung himself at the Architect, peppering his cheek with kisses, wanting to show gratitude for the rare glimpse at Emet-Selch's true affections no matter how unwilling it might be. "Aw, and you try to act all prickly all the time, you big softie!"

Emet-Selch's expression was one of purest disgust as every muscle in his face scrunched up and he tried to sink further into his robes as though such open intimacy was anathema to him. Such a display only spurred Azem on to give him more kisses and not even his other cheek was safe as Hythlodaeus leaned down to press his lips to it, muffling soft laughter against his skin. For a few moments, he seemed to allow such treatment, but was obviously less than thrilled about it. However, his already short patience wore thin soon enough and he ended up shoving the two away from himself with a growl, treatment that they were very much used to given how they grinned at each other afterwards. "If you two are _quite_ done, I would like to go back home right about now."

"But Haaadeees," Azem _whined,_ "we gotta go back and tell the town what happened… and maybe get a reward from 'em." Certainly, he helped people out for the selfless satisfaction of seeing the gratitude and relief on their faces, of knowing that at least one person's day was just made a little brighter… but a reward never hurt, especially when it came to convincing this grumpy Architect to come along with him.

Said Architect only crossed his arms at the suggestion, cocking his head slightly to one side. "And what sort of reward could possibly befit us when we can create anything we could even begin to imagine?"

"Uh…" A long pause and he was sure the other two could hear the gears whirring away in his skull. "A home-cooked meal?"

"That is what we have Hyth for."

The pouty, "I am unsure whether to consider that a compliment or not…" was ignored, the Traveler adamant that Emet-Selch accompany him. Stars, maybe if he got a taste of the warm, fuzzy feeling of doing a good deed for someone, he'd want to tag along on more of his adventures when possible.

Even the strongest Creation magic couldn't grant him the desire to see that happen.

"We could give Hyth a break from cooking for us. I'm sure he'd like that, right?"

Emet-Selch raised an eyebrow at the person in question, wordlessly offering the choice up to him to make. After mulling it over for a moment, "...I would not mind sampling some of the local cuisine. Perhaps even asking for recipes if they prove to be especially tasty…"

A resigned sigh left the Architect then before he shrugged helplessly, offering Azem the slightest of smiles. "Very well, you win this round. Lead the way, _hero_."

Beaming from ear to ear, the Traveler moved to wriggle in between his two lovers, draping an arm across either of their shoulders and starting to lead the way back to town (though having to strain himself a bit due to being the shortest out of the three of them). "Did you even see us, old man?! We're _all_ heroes after pulling that off and I'm not gonna let you forget it!"

**Author's Note:**

> If you enjoyed this and wanted to screech at me in a manner similar to socializing, then you can find my Twitter right [here](https://twitter.com/HippestGlitch).


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